


Addict To The Touch

by chaotically_cas



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: M/M, Tw funeral, tw cursing, tw dal & Johnny’s death mentioned, tw yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotically_cas/pseuds/chaotically_cas
Summary: It was the first funeral he had been to since Johnny  and Dally’s. And boy did he not want to go. For many a reason.The last three years and eight months of his life had been both the longest and fastest. Three years and eight months without a single word to the gang. Three years and eight months without a single word to his father as well.
Relationships: Sodapop Curtis/Steve Randle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Addict To The Touch

It was the first funeral he had been to since Johnny and Dally’s. And boy did he not want to go. For many a reason.

The last three years and eight months of his life had been both the longest and fastest. Three years and eight months without a single word to the gang. Three years and eight months without a single word to his father as well. 

And now he was dead. Steve’s father was dead. And he did not want to go back to Tulsa. He didn’t want to go back to see the gang. To see his father’s casket. Or especially not to see Johnny and Dally. But he was least excited about seeing Sodapop. His ex. 

They had been going out long before Dal and Johnny’s death. Steve had always been in love with Soda. And he thought Soda had always been in love with him. But after the events that claimed the lives of their two friends, shit got more difficult. Soda grew cold and distant. Something he never was. And then one night, god Steve hated thinking about that night, Soda broke up with him. Nearly three years. Down the drain in two minutes. It made Steve sick to think about. 

Without Soda and without his friends, and with his dad, he didn't have the motivation to stay in Tulsa. He couldn’t walk around town without the thoughts of Soda or his friends creeping in the back of his head. Kissing Soda in the break room at the DX. Watching movies at the drive in with Dally and Johnny. The lot. The Curtis house. Buck’s. Everything. So he left. 

He left for New Orleans, where his extended family lived, and never looked back. 

Until today. 

His family couldn’t be bothered to attend the funeral. So Steve got stuck going for them all. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t wanna see his old man lowered into the ground. Like some kind of horrid karma. Heart attack, he scoffed at it to himself. 

The flight seemed hours longer than it really was. He was wrapped up in thoughts of his dad. Thoughts of Sodapop. Thoughts of Tulsa. 

The car ride to his hotel was even longer somehow.  
He sighed and set his bags on his bed, throwing his head into his hands. He wondered if he was gonna cry. Or when he was gonna cry. He hadn’t shed a single tear ever since he found out. He just nodded, thanked the person on the other end, and hung up. 

He packed his bags the next day. And there he was. Getting ready for his father’s funeral tomorrow. Getting ready to see Soda. Who he truly never stopped loving.  
Sure he got around a bit in New Orleans. A new boyfriend every few months cause god knows he couldn’t keep a relationship long. But every guy he kissed and every man he took home he thought of Soda. It felt wrong. It felt dirty. The whole world felt dirty without Soda. 

Ahd Steve didn’t want to face him. But he knew he had to. The Curtis were hosting the funeral services gathering. So he would have to meet up there both before and after. He didn’t know which he was least excited about; the funeral or the after party. 

He shoved the thought to the back of his mind as he climbed into the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to sleep but knowing it was useless. 

After what felt like the longest night of his life, he was starting to notice a theme, he finally fell asleep.  
He didn’t set an alarm because the funeral was at three in the afternoon, so he knew he wouldn’t miss it. And to be honest, he didn't care if he did. 

He stretched, letting his bones pop and muscles pull, and looked at the clock. Eleven forty two am. Great. He had nearly two hours to kill before he was expected at the Curtis house. 

He decided on a nice hot showering being a good passing of his time. 

But within seconds of the scalding water running over his hot skin and the small room filming with fog, he found his thoughts returning to Sodapop. They always did. 

He ran his hands through his hair, washing it, and trying again to wash away the thoughts. They were broken up. For three years and eight months. He couldn’t be thinking of Soda like that. 

He was able to focus on some other things while he got dressed and ready, putting on his nicest suit he had brought. It was black and simple but it was fitting for him. 

He looked in the mirror one last time before checking the clock, one fifty. God he was beginning to wish he had rented a car. 

Steve eventually hailed a taxi and got out, fixing his tie as he stared down the Curtis house. It looked the same as it did three years and eight months ago. The memories hit him like a brick wall. It felt nearly impossible to pick his feet up let alone move them towards the all too familiar front gate. 

He finally managed to drag himself to the front door, knocking on it lightly. He felt as if he didn’t have the privilege of just walking in like he used to. 

The door swung open after a second and Steve saw the same bright smile Two Bit always had, only with a hint of sadness under it. But there has always seemed to be that. 

“Steve!” Two smiled, throwing his arms around Steve and bringing him into a close hug, making Steve laugh for the first time since he got the news “how are ya?”

“I’m alright. How are you?” Steve asked, giving his friend a pat on the back as they walked inside. 

Two Bit looked the same as he always did. He still had his sideburns and mullet, the only thing that changed was hopefully his maturity. 

“I’m good” Two Bit grinned back sincerely, finally letting go of his friend. 

“Steve?” he heard a voice call from the kitchen, a boy that looked a lot like Pony coming out. 

“Jeez, Ponyboy? That you?” Steve chucked out, shocked at how much the kid had grown. 

He had definitely had a growth spurt but he had most certainly grew into his looks as well, for a nearly eighteen year old that was. 

“Heya Steve, how you been? I missed ya” Pony questioned cautiously, walking over to give the older boy a hug. 

“Nah you didn’t” Steve teased, giving Pony an elbow in the side and a harsh rub on the head. He figured the kid couldn’t be too bad now. He seemed out. 

“I sure as hell did” Steve heard Darry crack. He had no idea where he came from but boy was he excited to see him “I missed ya like hell.”

Darry wrapped Steve in a warm comforting hug. Whispering something Steve couldn’t quite make out in his ear. It sounded something like ‘I’m glad you’re back.’ Steve hoped that wasn’t what he said, however, because he was planning on leaving the day after the funeral. And never coming back. 

“Hey Steve.”

That was why. 

Sodapop. 

“Hey” Steve greeted emotionlessly as Darry let go of Steve. 

“I’m sorry about your dad” Soda comforted, he wasn’t real good with words.

“It’s alright.”

There wasn’t any other word to describe this situation but awkward. Awkward might have just been an understatement. 

“So….” Two Bit started, trying to clear the ice cold air in between the two “how’s New Orleans?”

God Steve was thankful for Two in that moment because if the silence would have lingered for even another second Steve was sure he would have lunged forward right onto Soda’s lips. But he knew he couldn’t.  
But golly did he want to. Soda looked like perfection. Steve had no idea that Soda could have gotten any more handsome. But he sure as hell did. 

His hair was now more brown than before but he still looked at Steve with the same piercing green blue beautiful eyes. It made Steve wanna curse everything, every man, he knew. 

“It was good, I guess” Steve struggled. 

“Meet any broads?” Two pushed on, wiggling his eyebrows, and any thankfulness he had for the older man had instantly disappeared at that. 

“Shut your trap Keith” Darry scolded, picking up on the awkwardness of the situation. 

“What? Why? Oh-“ Two Bit said, stopping in his track looking between Steve and Soda. Steve wanted to punch him right in the jaw “sorry.”

“But did you?” Sods piped up, almost sounding shy. 

“Did I what?” Steve asked, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“Meet anyone.”

“Oh. No.”

Soda just nodded. And you could cut the tension with a knife. 

“Do you want a bite to eat before heading over…” Darry spoke up, asking Steve a question before trailing off. 

“I guess I could use a good old Dar sandwich” Steve answered, forcing out a chuckle as the two made their war to the kitchen. 

The whole funeral felt like a fever dream. 

Steve honestly could only remember bits and pieces of it. The car ride there was a blur of bodies. The service was long and boring. He remembered not having to fight back a single tear. Not even one one he his father was slowly lowered into the ground. But the thing he remembered most of all was Soda’s eyes on him nearly the whole time. He really wished he wouldn’t have. 

He could barely ever remember the hugs and handshakes of grief and solidarity as the funeral came to a close and everyone heading back to the Curtis house to reconvene. His mind felt in a buzz as he could hardly mumble out a conversation. ‘Yeah’ ‘‘Hmm’ ‘it’s ok’. 

That’s how the entire day went, until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. 

“Soda?” Steve inquired, snapping out of his daze like trance. 

“Heya Stevie. Wanna talk?” Soda smiled weakly, leaving a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“About what?”

“Anything. You just wanna get out of here with me?” Soda asked, almost begged. He looked sadder than Steve, at Steve’s dad's own funeral. 

“Sure” Steve nodded hesitantly. It was both the first and last thing he wanted to do. 

The two boys made their way through the sea of people and out the front door. 

“I’m sorry about your dad, again” Soda hummed. 

“It’s ok. Truly. I ain’t upset about that rat bastard.” Steve grinned, it was a natural reflex. Soda just nodded though “what did you wanna talk about?”

“I miss my best friend” Soda sighed, a frown appearing on his usually so happy upbeat face. 

“Friend” Steve scoffed. He couldn’t help it but slip out, laced in self hatred. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like…. I don’t know” Soda reflected, looking down at his hands and wiping them against his jeans. 

“It’s fine” Steve apologized “I missed you too.” 

“I thought about writing you” Soda smiled weakly “a letter I mean. But I didn’t know where you lived. Like your address.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. 

“I figured you wouldn’t have written back though anyway” Sods chuckled lightly. 

“I would have” Steve reassured his, friend? 

“Really? I didn’t think so after how we left off” Soda remarked awkwardly, still refusing to meet Steve’s eyes. 

“Doesn’t mean I would have ignored you” Steve shrugged, trying to keep his own eyes anywhere but Soda. 

“That’s good to hear” Soda nodded. 

A silence fell between the two of them as they continued to walk down the sun setting street. It was a warm day so neither of them would mind it too much if it wasn’t for the heart aching, gut wrenching, painful dull silence. 

“Are you mad at me, Stevie?” Soda questioned, finally. 

“I was” Steve answered honestly, but upon seeing the look on Soda’s face he decided to continue “I was. But I couldn’t be. I didn't understand. But now I think I do. I could never be mad at you Soda.”

“You understand now?”

“I think so.”

More silence. 

“I hated doing that, just so you know” Soda admitted. 

“Doing what?” Steve asked, even though he was pretty sure he already knew. 

“Breaking up with you.”

Yep. 

“Don’t be Soda. I just want you to be happy” Steve spoke sincerely, knowing it hurt like hell. It hurt like hell then and it hurt like hell now. 

“You too, Stevie” Soda noted. 

Fucking hell did Steve hate that silence. He would rather be fighting with Soda again then to be walking in silence, cause at least they’d be talking. Sharing. 

Steve glanced briefly back over at Soda and he nearly had the breath knocked out of him at the sight. The last drops of the days solemn sunshine rayed through Soda’s hair, casting shadows on his artistically handsome face. Boy was Pony right when he said he looked like something out of a movie. Or definitely some sort of movie Steve would watch when he was alone. He looked like a god. 

“Stop staring, Steve” Soda commanded at a whisper. 

“What? Why?” Steve countered. Too shocked by Soda’s words to defend himself. 

“Cause I can’t take it.”

Steve saw tears welling in his eyes. 

“Can’t take it? Soda, what do you mean?” Steve cross examined, grabbing Soda’s arms and making him stop walking. 

“Just stop looking at me like that!” Soda demanded. 

“Like what?!”

“Like you wanna kiss me!”

So what if I do?! Thought Steve. But he didn’t care to say it. After all, shouting was better than silence. 

“Oh fuck off” Steve sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Soda didn’t reply. He just looked at Steve with angry eyes that Steve had never seen before. They looked almost pathetic. Sad even.

“God Soda, why are you so upset today? Ain’t like it’s your pop who just got buried” Steve spat, regretting it the second it came out. 

“No but you ever think I know how it feels?” Soda snapped “I’m allowed to by upset that I ain’t seen my best friend in like three and a half years!”

“Three years and eight months.” Steve corrected. 

“Asshole” Soda scoffed in disbelief. 

“Soda- I didn’t mean to-“

“Just go home.” Soda growled quietly, whipping around and speedy walking back towards the house. 

Steve wanted to go home. He wanted to call after Soda so bad. He wanted to kiss him even more. But he was frozen. He watched as Soda became a distant dot down the block. 

“Fuck” he cursed to himself. 

And before long he was back at the hotel. His head hurt like a bitch. He didn’t think that day could possibly go as bad as it did, and he just wanted to get the hell to sleep. 

So that’s what he did. Or at least tried to do. 

All he could focus his thoughts on was how warm and nice Soda’s hand felt on his. How close his face had gotten when they fought. The way he still smelled like gasoline, grease, Vanilla, and too much cologne. It was still Steve’s favorite smell. Soda was still his favorite sight. And his voice, even when upset, was still his favorite sound. And his kiss was Steve’s favorite feeling. He fucking missed it. 

He woke up the next day, his head still aching in reminder of the night before. But nonetheless he got up. 

His flight was at ten, and it was nearly eight thirty, so he needs to get on it. 

But something in him begged to stay. 

He noticed the feeling as he brushed his teeth, as he packed his bag, as he hauled the taxi, and most especially the second he stepped into the airport. He couldn’t help but feeling cold and bitter inside. 

That’s when he heard the thing he least wanted to hear in his flight. His flight was canceled. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” Steve scoffed to himself, shaking his head in laughter and pure annoyance at his situation “fuck this.”

He stood up, much against his will, and walked over to the series of pay phones that lined the airport wall.  
And like muscle memory be dialed up the Curtis’s home phone, praying Darry, or hell, even Pony would answer. 

“Hello?”

“Darry?”

“No, It’s Sodapop, who is this?”

Silence. 

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Steve.”

More silence. 

“You ok?”

“My flight was canceled.”

“Oh.”

Even more silence. 

“I need a ride back to my hotel. Is Two around?”

“No. But I can come.”

“You don’t have to do that, Soda.”

“I wanna. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Ok, thank you.”

Click. Steve let out a heavy shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

His foot drummed on the sidewalk as he shivered in his coat, it wasn’t cold so he didn’t know why he was shaking. He figured it was nerves. 

He sat on that bench in front of the airport waiting until he heard the familiar rumble of Darry’s truck tear up to the street and stop in front of where Steve sat. 

“Hop in” Soda called, rolling down the window.  
Steve got up with a nod, opening the passenger side door and tossing himself in. 

“Thank you Soda” Steve said, giving a half smile. 

“No problem.”

The car ride returned to silence. Something Steve had grown accustomed to. Even though he absolutely hated it. This was absolutely nothing like how they were three years and eight months ago. 

Steve found himself staring at Soda again, reminiscing in every sweet memory of every part of him. Every smile. Every kiss. Every wink. Everything. 

“Steve. You’re staring again” Soda spoke up. 

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“So what?” Steve asked with a sigh. 

“Don’t” Soda reminded him. 

“You can’t tell me what to look at” Steve spat. 

“Well then pretend I’m asking you nicely” Soda hissed. 

“Well then I’m saying no!”

Steve felt the car harshly skid to a stop as Soda pulled off the road and parked the car. He got out and slapped the door, running his hands through his hair. 

“What the fuck, Soda?” Steve shouted, getting out of the car, slamming the door as well “what is wrong with you?!”

“Wrong with me?!” Soda retorted, spinning to look at Steve with a crazy look in his eyes “Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Gee, lemme think for a second” Steve sighed sarcastically “maybe it has something to do with the love of my life not wanting me anymore!”

“Hold on a second! That’s not fair, you know that Steve” Soda defended, calming down a bit. 

“It’s not?!” Steve challenged. 

“I ain’t never said I didn’t want you anymore!”

“It sure as hell seemed like it the last time I saw ya!”

“There ain’t never been a time in my life where I didn’t want you Steve, god damn it! We were seventeen! Our best friends had just died. Shit happens. It doesn’t mean I stopped loving you for a second” Soda ranted out, his face as red as Darry’s truck. 

“What…” Steve managed to stutter out, his brain was foggy but still going a mile a minute. 

“I love you, asshole” Soda smiled, letting himself fully relax into the words “I never stopped.”

“God I could propose to you right now” Steve breathed out, completely infatuated. 

“Do it.”

“Marry me, Soda? Please?”

“Absolutely.”


End file.
